


Unification Day

by servantofclio



Series: Chances and Second Chances [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Holidays, headcanons ahoy, turian culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrating Unification Day is a lot more interesting than Shepard would have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unification Day

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on the Second Chances family celebrating a holiday together. Second Chances itself includes the combined family’s first Christmas together, and ends with Shepard and Garrus at a New Year’s party. Having covered some human holidays, I wanted to try something else for this prompt. :)

Lexa came to the table singing to herself, which was Shepard’s first clue that there was something unusual about the day. She was singing some song that Shepard wasn’t familiar with, but she could catch from the lyrics a lot of _unity_ and _fellowship_ and something about _bloodshed_. Shepard suspected she was only catching about half of the meaning, though, since Lexa’s voice was doing a lot of warbling, even splitting into different tones. She finished up the song with a little trill as she poured herself a glass of juice, drank it, and then started singing “Die for the Cause.” Shepard recognized that one, at least. 

David shuffled into the room at that point and stood there staring at Lexa before he finally said, “What are you _doing_?” 

“It’s Unification Day!” Lexa said brightly. 

“What’s Unification Day?” David asked. 

“I think you had that in your galactic culture classes years ago,” Shepard murmured, but Lexa was already answering, standing up straight and reciting as if she’d been drilled. 

“Unification Day commemorates the end of the War of Unification with the signing of the Parthia Accords, when all the turian colonies were reunited with the Hierarchy!” 

“Lexa’s very fond of U-Day,” said Garrus, as he entered the kitchen. 

He was wearing a formal uniform with a raft of medals and insignia pinned to it, and a sweeping cloak with a deep-blue lining that draped elegantly over one shoulder. Shepard had seen Garrus dressed up before, but never like that. 

She had definitely not had enough coffee for this. 

“Whoa,” David said, staring at Garrus. 

Shepard reached for the pot to pour herself another cup, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “Is there some reason you didn’t mention this apparently important holiday to me?” 

Garrus looked faintly bewildered. “It’s a turian civic holiday, Shepard. I couldn’t imagine that you’d be interested.” 

“But—” There was a distressed waver in Lexa’s voice. 

“Holiday?” said David. “Are there presents like at Christmas?” 

Lexa’s mandibles flapped. “ _No_ ,” she said, sounding outraged. “Unification Day is a civic celebration, it’s not about getting things for yourself.” 

David looked disappointed and dug into his breakfast. 

“I made you do Christmas and New Year’s,” Shepard said to Garrus. “I think we can handle the occasional turian holiday.” 

“Christmas is a family holiday, though. We have other holidays for that,” he replied. 

Lexa clapped her hands. “Like there’s Remembrance Day and Spirit Day and—” 

Garrus continued, “But, like I said, Unification Day is really just about civic unity. I have to go because of work, but there’s no need for you to put yourself out.” He gestured as he spoke, making the cloak swirl dramatically. 

“But I thought they could come see the parade!” Lexa cried. 

David perked up again. “Parade? Does that mean I can skip school?” 

Shepard gritted her teeth. “I can’t believe you didn’t at least _mention_ it.” 

Garrus shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “There’s a lot of speeches and singing, Shepard, it’s honestly a little dull.” 

“But there’s a parade!” Lexa said. “And the choirs have to sing a song for each of the colonies, it’s the best thing!” 

“It takes forever,” Garrus muttered. “And the parade’s not going to be like in Cipritine, Lex, there aren’t as many turians on the Citadel.” 

“Oh.” Lexa deflated, crestfallen. Literally crestfallen; the growing plates on her skull actually seemed to droop. “But I really wanted David to see the parade.” 

“C’mon, Mom, we can go, right?” David begged, using his brown eyes to best effect. 

Shepard sighed. “Let me call the school and get changed.”

 

#

 

Shepard could not even imagine what the parade in Cipritine looked like, but the parade on the Citadel was impressive enough. Hundreds of turians, maybe even thousands, all in their best attire, marching along the graceful pathways of the Presidium in tightly-formed companies. Lexa’s explanation of how they were organized, by colony origin and citizen tier and profession, rapidly got too complicated for Shepard to follow. Garrus might have done better, but he had to be on the main podium with the turian councilor. 

Shepard was going to have a long talk with him about turian holidays and the observation thereof, so she didn’t get blindsided with another surprise like this again. 

But – in spite of Garrus’s warnings – she was actually having fun, and she thought David was, too. There had been a number of speeches, yes, but the parade was spectacle all on its own. The groups marched with impressive flair, each of them with enormous fluttering banners, and the crowd of spectators (mostly turian as well, with a fair number of asari and only a smattering of other aliens) cheering and waving smaller banners in their turn. 

There was also the singing. Shepard had heard turian pop music before, or at least she assumed she had, but this was something else again. A song for each of the colonies, Lexa had said, and the singing was done by massed choral companies, weaving rich webs of harmony. There were bass tones that seemed to rumble in the bones of Shepard’s skull, soaring descants, all mixed with lively melodies that sounded like nothing she’d ever heard before, and that she only partially understood. It did take hours, but Shepard hardly counted the minutes. Lexa kept singing along, mostly under her breath, and even David was listening with his eyes wide and his mouth half-open. When the several choruses joined together for a final song (in which they praised the virtues of unification and declared the colonies stronger together), most of the turian crowd joined in, and even some of the asari, and the whole Presidium seemed to reverberate with the last chord. 

A passing turian pressed a holographic flimsy in her hand showing a masked turian in a dramatic pose. “Come to the show tonight!” he called out. “Performance of _Fractures_ and _Unity_ , the classic theatrical diptych of the great Rallo Exerian!” 

“Dude, that mask is cool,” David said, peering at the flimsy. 

“Ooh, can we go?” Lexa asked. 

Oh, yes, she was going to have some words for Garrus. “Let’s talk to your dad first,” Shepard said, glancing up at the podium. 

In the meantime, there was a _fair_ , as somehow the parade route proved to be lined with stalls bearing the standards of all the farflung colonies and outposts of the Hierarchy, each of them serving dishes of their colony and sometimes handing out flags or other baubles. Most of the food wasn’t levo-friendly, of course, but there was enough that Shepard and David could both find something to eat, and Lexa was having a ball, running around and snacking on absolutely everything, and collecting an armful of beaded bracelets. Shepard understood why the school had been so willing to write off David’s absence as a “cultural opportunity.” 

She nudged her son with her elbow. “Remember you’re going to have to write a report on today.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” David returned. “So can we go to that mask play thing? So I can put it in my report?” 

Garrus finally caught up with them a few minutes later, so Shepard could raise the question. He looked dubious. “I don’t know, Shepard, it’s classical turian drama, which can be a little... heavy for kids.” 

“You also thought we’d be bored today,” Shepard pointed out. 

“And you’re not?” he asked, apparently startled. 

Shepard rolled her eyes. “The kids are having a blast.” 

“And you?” 

“I could stand to sit down, but I’m having a good time.” 

Garrus found them seats, quickly, at the back of a large kiosk serving both levo and dextro food, and Shepard settled down with a sigh of pleasure. “I’m not sure I quite understand this holiday, though,” she remarked. “It’s Unification Day, but everything seems to celebrate all of the colonies?” 

“That was part of the Accords that ended the war,” Garrus said. “We honor all our cultures. Each part of the whole matters. Also why we all started wearing these, even if we’re from Palaven.” He traced the blue lines on his mandible. 

“Huh,” Shepard said, leaning back in her seat. “I like it.” 

“So what’s this play about?” David asked, waving the flimsy. 

Garrus sighed. “Yeah, I guess if we’re going, you could use a plot summary. Well, it’s a two-part play, but the basic plot revolves around a group of turian cousins who live on different colonies and so are divided by the colony wars...” 

Shepard took a sip of her (quite nice) glass of wine and smiled to see both David and Lexa hanging on the story with their eyes wide.


End file.
